


Young & Beautiful

by HisaHiru



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes as Captain America, M/M, Old Steve Rogers, Parallel Universes, Post-Avengers (2012), Skinny Steve, Steve Rogers Feels, sad fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 10:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3975079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisaHiru/pseuds/HisaHiru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But perhaps in another world, in another universe, there would be a different story for both of them.<br/>Bucky Barnes, Captain America, was awoken in the new century. He became the leader of the Avengers, living his life as a man out of time until his past resurfaced.<br/>He found Steve Rogers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Young & Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic after listening to a song by Lana Del Rey with the same title. I always got sad when I heard the song and most of the time ended up crying. So.. yeah... I wrote this piece.  
> This story takes place in an alternate universe-... parallel universe, I don't really know the difference. 
> 
> Another special thanks to Blanchezy.  
> Any mistake you'll find inside is all mine; the words are kinda repetitive and the story got kinda rushed toward the end but... I guess I'll go with this.

James Buchanan Barnes opened his eyes, letting the scenery of a cold winter morning entered his vision. So beautiful and yet cold and unyielding… Bucky blinked, tried to shake part of the memory that had been haunting him since the moment he woke up. His mind tried to block it away, and yet deep inside his heart he knew full well those images would keep him company for the rest of his life.

It had been one year since he woke up in the 21century. The war was no more and yet the lasting peace was so fragile. He could feel the very foundation shaking with every word the leaders said; empty promises that would lead them all into another clash against the world. But it wasn't his war anymore, it wouldn’t be. He was but a small piece of a long lost remnant of the past, a history that was supposed to be told as nothing but a lesson for the new generation.

He was not a soldier anymore.

The moment he let the plane-… Valkyrie, the Red Skull mentioned it moments before the final act began. When Valkyrie crashed into the ice, the very same moment death claimed him as another resident for the afterlife. He was destined to be a shadow of the Great War, his story was supposed to end the moment he closed his eyes as his body being caged by the cold ice prison with no escape.

But they found him.

S.H.I.E.L.D found him, being trapped inside a chunk of ice they dragged back to New York from Antarctica. He was amazed with how fast the technology advanced, and yet the amusement fell dead soon after he realized this was not the future he was looking for. He was alone, a man out of time. He left his life back in 1945 and now he was standing all by himself. All that he knew was no longer exist; either they were decaying deep down below the very ground he was standing on or waiting for the last call from the Man up above.

And the most painful thing that crippled him the most was knowing that he had left the most precious thing in his life alone to his fate without even saying a proper goodbye.

He had left Steve Rogers.

Bucky felt warm tears threatened to fall from his eyes and quickly wiped them with the pad of his thumb. Steven Grant Rogers, a tiny man with courage of a warrior. He was as stubborn as a mule, despite his struggle against his own health. Bucky stifled a chuckle. It was still fresh in his mind how often he tore the whole block apart just to find Steve throwing his boney and drenched figure to the nearest bully he could find.

It amused him how they both managed to survive with how things going on; especially when Steve more often than not get into a trouble he couldn’t handle by himself. His big and pure heart often took Bucky’s breath away in more than one sense, like when he got kicked hard in the stomach for standing up for Steve against a guy who was twice his size.

When Bucky was accepted into the army, receiving his first order, he saw how deep it affected Steve. He looked broken beyond repair, like someone just forcefully took what little he had away from him. Bucky took him for a dance; their very last dance before the whole mess separated them. And then, the very next day, Bucky left. He left not only a man he trusted his whole life and hope into, but also the man he loved and swore to protect.

He went into the war with Steve’s well being in mind. He went into the war with a promise that when things are over, he would be back and brought a brighter future for both of them. Being captured and experimented inside the Hydra base was never part of the plan, but it happened. He remembered little of it. Next thing he knew, he broke the whole strain that kept him buckled on top of the cold table and turned the building upside down.

Bucky Barnes came back to the basecamp, safe and sound, with about 400 hundreds man shouting his name in celebration of victory and freedom. Only then he heard what he was missing. Steve had managed to get into the army and became the guinea pig for the so-called Project Rebirth. The whole thing was a failure and the doctor, dr. Erskine a scientist for Germany, had been declared dead. And yet Bucky appeared, a proud and breath taking result from a simple mistake.

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, _the_ Captain America.

The train he rode slowly came into a halt. Bucky roused out of his daydream and gathered himself, shaking all those thought off of his mind. This was his stop. He slid out of his seat; the one he had been occupied alone (a simple blessing of silence he was thankful for); and proceeded forward to leave the train.

Cold wind greeted him right when he stepped his foot out of the public transport. The snow hadn’t arrived yet but it was close, Bucky could feel it deep in his bone. He let the small the warm light of the sun gently caressing his face, blinding him for just the slightest moment. It calmed him down, luring him into another wave of cherished memory. The phantom touch he could feel tracing the map of his whole face, a soft touch of a painfully familiar hand he couldn’t hold for it was nothing but a fleeting dream.

Bucky pinched his eyes shut and opened them with a sigh. It was time to move. He pulled the collar of his jacket up and shoved his hands into the pocket, fingering the papers he folded and kept safely inside. He at last got a hint that was worth checking on. After one year of searching, using the limited time he got mid Avengers business, he at last found a glimpse of light to guide him. Fury kept his promise to him, scouring every corner of the world for just one man whose fate was unknown up until now.

They found Steve Rogers.

Steve was still alive.

That was why Bucky ditched the whole Avengers meeting, abandoning his duty as the captain for the misfit group, and went straight to Washington DC. A nursing home… Bucky couldn’t believe it. Steve had only Bucky to lean on. How did he survive all those cold winters inside their lonely apartment? How did he eat with so little Bucky had left behind for him to scrap? Bucky tightened his fist and braced himself for what was to come.

He was moving on autopilot; everything that came out of his mouth, whether it was answers or counter question, left no trace inside his brain. His movement was purely based on instinct and reflex. The nurse he met said something, recognizing the man he was describing. Steve’s name rolled out of her tongue, oddly familiar yet somehow lacking. It felt kind of alien as she spelled the name, as Bucky knew very few people close enough to say the name with such affection.

“Before you meet him…” the nurse turned around right in front of a closer door. Bucky could barely contain the raging emotions inside him. He was so close to Steve and yet each passing second felt like he was being drifted further from him. “Mr. Rogers is feeling quite unwell these past few days. Please refrain from giving too much stress for him.”

Bucky wanted to bark at her for such subtle accusation. He wanted to scream at her, spilling those tales from the past about how he was the living beacon that kept Steve alive through the night. He was there when Steve was at his worst. He was the one to talk Steve out of his asthma attack, gently whispering his name between each wheeze of his breaths.

But Bucky only nod. He couldn’t trust his tongue well enough not to let him falter. His palms were sweaty and cold, like the blood that flew in his vein slowly froze in each passing heartbeat. He let the nurse gripped the handle, passing him another knowing smile, and opened the way for Bucky to get in. Part of his brain told him to turn away and let the past spoke for itself, but his heart successfully convinced the other part to stay and face the truth.

And he did.

“Mr. Rogers, you have a visitor,” the nurse softly called from the doorway.

It felt like the time just stopped and swung backward. Bucky couldn’t breathe properly, like someone just drove him into the water and let him drown. In front of him, lying on top of the bed was a man whose face often kept him awake through the night. His golden hair had turned dull, hanging limply on top of his head under the graceful shower of the sunlight.

Bucky berated himself in fear of messing things up. He should have stayed at home.

He hadn’t even considered the possibility of Steve going into shock from seeing him-… or worse, the possibility of Steve not recognizing him. He was old, painfully close to his last day. Bucky knew not what to do. He stood dead on his track, the courage he had gathered moments before the door opened vanished in a blink of an eye. Steve turned his head and laid his gaze upon him, his eyes showed no sign of awareness. Bucky wanted to cry.

“Bucky…?”

The word was no louder than a whisper but it was enough to send Bucky rushing to the bed, taking Steve’s thin hand and giving it a loose grip. “Steve,” he smiled but he doubted it reached his eyes. He was struggling. “Hey… It’s been a while.”

Steve returned the smile, flopping his hand over Bucky’s and caressing it. Bucky could barely feel the touch. “It’s been too long,” Steve rasped and nudged his head toward an empty chair. Bucky dragged the chair closer to the bed and offered himself what little luxury he could have. He heard the door closed shut. The nurse left them alone and Bucky appreciated it. He really did.

“Still alive, huh, punk?”

“Can’t break your heart by leaving, now can I, Buck?” Steve chuckled and yet his voice was shaking. Bucky saw his shoulder trembling and his eyes turned watery. “I was waiting for you. All this time I did,” Steve bit his lower lip to hold himself back but there was nothing he could do to save the broken dam. “You didn’t come back…”

“Steve…”

“Bucky… You’re alive,” Steve was outright crying now and Bucky couldn’t resist it any longer. He felt his cheeks gone wet and drenched as tears flowed freely out of his blurry eyes. “You’re alive…” Steve sobbed, opening his frail shaky arms for Bucky.

“I am, Steve,” Bucky grinned, ignoring the salty taste over his tongue as he spoke. He leaned in toward Steve and held him close, softly embracing him to make up for the lost time. It wasn’t enough but he couldn’t bring himself to ask for more. “I’m alive… and I’m here. Have to let my best man know I’m still rocking and kicking.”

“I was waiting… Buck, I was always waiting-…”

“I know.”

Bucky let Steve buried himself on his chest, giving himself the comfort he longed as he took in what he could find. Steve was a small man for his age, he had always been. But as his age found another way to beat him senseless into the next realm, his body seemed to be more fragile than the last he remembered. Bucky was worried. With his bare hand, crushing his enemies’ skulls proved to be no challenge. He often considered it as a gift and yet right now it was a curse.

This fragile body could shatter like a glass if Bucky did so much as putting just too much pressure in his embrace. It was torture. He had been given just a taste for what he desired and now all he could do was to watch as the hunger eat him up whole from the inside. He wanted to hold Steve tight like he did in the past, but the idea of doing so at the moment could send him reeling back in fear.

He settled with putting his limp arm over Steve’s back and used the other to comb Steve’s hair like a loving mother. He kissed Steve’s scalp softly, inhaling the scent he missed like a thirsty man from the Sahara.

“It’s been 68 years… Where’ve you been, Bucky?” Steve sniffled, weakly scrubbing the tears and snot off of his face. Bucky smiled again, as there was nothing else he could offer, and helped Steve laying back to the bed. He tucked himself back to his seat and held Steve’s hand. The little contact sent so many emotions through his mind and his rapidly beating heart. “You look the same-… How?”

That was his cue.

Bucky started telling his story from the very beginning. He described each part like a narrator of an old movie, picturing the whole events with little difficulties. For Steve, those things were a tale from long ago, but for Bucky he could still smell the blood of his fallen comrades like the battlefield was still painfully near. He decided to skip most of the bloody part of his battle, jumping straight to the happy moments he shared with the Howling Commandoes and how a swan dive into the Atlantic sent him straight into the future.

Steve seemed like he was struggling to stay focused. His fingers laced around Bucky’s, never once willing to loosen it’s grip for the fear of losing his precious one again. He did smile and let out a throaty laughter when Bucky told him about the Avengers. He told him about the mighty God of Thunder in all his glory, the doctor with a heart of gold, the guy who could never miss a shot, the woman whose eyes held so many secrets and the man of iron… The man inside the armor; the son of Howard Stark.

“Howard…” Steve mumbled, running his thumb over Bucky’s palm lightly. It was kind of ticklish but Bucky didn’t have it in him to pull his hand back. “I remember him… He was part of the experiment… Project Rebirth, with dr. Erskine…”

“Yeah, that’s him… I’m on the same team with his son. Tony Stark?” Bucky chuckled as Steve raised an eyebrow. How was it possible not to know about such a glory hound whose name practically light up the whole town on top of the tower? “He’s a dick sometimes, but he’s a good guy. Kinda like his father, especially the sense of humor.”

“I’d like to meet them someday,” Steve hummed, nodding to himself. “Your friends… They’re treating you well?” Bucky saw a glimpse of anxiety in Steve’s eyes for the slightest moment before it disappeared. Yet there was something more… Nostalgia.

Bucky grinned weakly, kissing the back of Steve’s hand and rested his head on Steve’s open palm. “They are,” he replied. “They watched my back all the time, making sure I’m alive and breathing through the day. They’re like my personal guardian angels, and I’m theirs.”

Steve opened his mouth but the only sound that came out was scratchy cough. Bucky winched at how horrible it sounded, but the look on Steve’s face as he forced himself to stop coughing kicked Bucky out of his stun. He spontaneously slipped his arm between Steve’s back and the bed and helped him to sit, arranging the pillows with his free hand for Steve to lean on. He then went to work on the glass over the nightstand and poured Steve some water.

He waited until Steve’s coughs slowly subsided before he rested the tip of the glass on top of Steve’s lips. Steve gasped, willing his breath to return to normal, and bowed his head slightly to take a small sip. Bucky pulled the glass back a little. He couldn’t have Steve got chocked by how fast he intended to drain the whole liquid.

“I’m okay…” Steve mouthed. Bucky could barely hear his voice.

“Yeah, I’m sure coughing your lungs out is a daily routine,” he swept a tiny bead of water from Steve’s lips. “How’s your asthma?” Bucky imagined how Steve curling up over the bed, hands clutching the sheet as his chest heaved for a mouthful of breath. He was alone; Bucky wasn’t there.

“I haven’t had an attack in a long, long time,” the blond slowly slid his body down and went back to the previous position. “They said the serum is a failure, but… I think… It worked. No such thing as physical change but… I felt… Much healthier…”

“You think?” Bucky drew the blanket higher, covering Steve up to his chest and landed a couple gentle taps afterwards. Maybe the serum really wasn’t a total failure. Bucky always had a doubt that Steve would make it to his fifty with so many health difficulties; especially without Bucky there to make sure he ate properly. “That’s good…”

“That’s funny. Peggy said the same thing when I told her about it,” Steve chuckled, his expression betrayed his tone. Bucky found admiration in his eyes and a small portion of regret. “Sweet Peggy… I moved in with her not long after… after-… you know?” Bucky nodded. He knew fully what Steve was talking about. “I lived with her for about 4 years before she offered her hand in a marriage…”

Bucky blinked. He hadn’t expected that. “Peggy? Peggy got married to-…?” Because Bucky thought Steve would totally get it on with Peggy. He had to-… Because there was no one else there for him after Bucky went freezing himself to the next century. “Steve, did you ever settle down and build a family?”

Steve watched him like he couldn’t believe the question Bucky just thrown at him. But then the rough emotion melted and left him, the weariness that remained reminding Bucky of how old he was. “How could I?” Bucky feared the very next words. “Until the end of the line, remember?”

“Stevie-…” Bucky chocked down a sob and gathered both of Steve’s palms in his. “No… I was dead, I wasn’t-… That was the end of the line, Steve. That was my end, not yours. Why?”

“Because my heart told me you’re still out there, Bucky,” Steve said without missing a beat. He shifted just a bit closer to his soulmate and weakly tugged Bucky’s fist for a kiss. “I kept on believing… Even when they told me you’re gone, never coming back.”

“Oh, Steve…”

Bucky’s heart shattered to pieces and turned into dust. This wasn’t how things are supposed to work. Steve was destined to meet his right partner, spending the rest of his life in their loving arms. Bucky always dreamed to become the lucky guy, to keep Steve company whenever the sun went down and greet him with a kiss when morning came. He shoved that dream into the golden chest inside his heart and threw the key away when he crashed. He was hoping, desperately, that Steve would find other who would love him like Bucky did.

Steve never did.

He was alone in his old days, counting each passing seconds for his end to come all by himself in the small room. There was no one there to hold his hand, to whisper him comfort through his sadness and pain. Had Bucky knew not of his lasting existence, his grave would be filled with only a body and formal prayers; no single tears from those who cherished him in their memories.

“I live for you, Bucky,” Steve mumbled, seeing Bucky’s hunched form in front of him ruined what was left of his endurance. “I told myself not to cry, that you left for the lives of many. But I couldn’t…”

“Steve-…”

“Part of me died, one that remained withered before long,” he breathed, guiding Bucky to lay his palm over Steve’s chest. Bucky could feel his heart beating a steady rhythm. “Here… This part turned cold, the ice refused to melt no matter how people try to flame it hot. It longed for you… But you were not there.”

“I wasn’t there…” Bucky gritted his teeth and pushed himself forward, pressing his lips softly over Steve’s briefly. “Steve, I wasn’t there…”

“No… But now you’re here,” Steve cut the gap for another kiss. There was no lust and desire involved, only hunger for the time they lost and forgiveness. “You come back… and everything is gonna be just fine.”

“Steve, I-… I’m so sorry.”

“For what? You deserve no forgiveness for you’ve done nothing wrong, Bucky,” Steve ran his fingers over Bucky’s hair, cutting through every strands and memorized the texture.

Bucky shook his head and cupped Steve’s face. The wrinkles were so vivid on his skin while Bucky’s were almost unblemished. “I left you alone, Steve… I should’ve-… Just-…” he frowned at how pathetic he must look. He couldn’t gather enough letters in his mind to form a proper word. “It’s late-… I have to go. You should get some rest, Stevie,” Bucky whispered, kissing Steve’s forehead and released the hold he had on him.

Steve noticed the hurry and anxiety Bucky radiated and reached for him as fast as his weary body let him. “Bucky…” his voice started to sound hoarse from talking too much. “Will you come here again…?”

Bucky opened his mouth for a smart retort but he couldn’t bring himself to make light of the situation. He settled with a forced smile and one last glance to Steve. “I will… I promise,” he replied.

The door closed with a soft thump but Bucky somehow heard it echoing inside his head. He ran, apologizing when he accidentally bumped against anyone on his way. The nurses complained but he paid them no mind. He just had to run away from reality, even though he knew there was no escape. The truth would haunt him, the truth that Steve had wasted most of his life waiting for him.

 

0oOo0

 

The moment Bucky stepped out of the nursing house the sun was no longer standing right above his head, as he unconsciously spending his time talking with Steve. When he returned to the Avengers tower, it was already late. JARVIS welcomed him without asking about where he went. Bucky appreciated it; he could do with no interrogation. He was tired and he could use some rest. He made a quick stop at the communal floor to grab something to drink. His stomach begged him for food since he most likely missed his lunch but he had no appetite. He felt quite sick, actually.

“Captain,” a voice greeted him and Bucky cursed low under his breath. Things could get worse, he knew. “Welcome back.”

“Thor,” Bucky turned away and nodded. The norse god was looking at him but his eyes showed no judgment. “You’re still up?”

“Aye,” Thor answered. “I was on my own to return to my chamber when I noticed your return,” he smiled, effortlessly holding himself back from prying. Bucky knew little who could endure their curiosity and apparently Natasha stood at the top of his short list. “Well then… Good night, Captain.”

“Thor-…?” he knew it wasn’t the right time to talk about this but he couldn’t keep quite and drown himself in his own misery. “Do you-… If someone in the past did something other than what he was supposed to do-… Will it change the future?”

He had thought about it on his way back. If only he didn’t freeze himself, he might be able to find his way to return to America and built a life with Steve. If only he didn’t become Captain America, he would be just another soldier who got a better chance to lead a normal life with the guy he loved. If only he didn’t join the army at all, finding a normal and honest job instead, he could have gazed upon the sky with Steve by his side cheering for the victory and their freedom after the end of the war.

Steve wouldn’t have to go through all those moments alone, crying in sorrow in the middle of the joyful crowd.

“It is possible,” Thor said and Bucky felt something heavy just fell and filled his heart. It was getting harder to breathe. “But then again, Captain…” he continued, as if he knew exactly what answer Bucky was seeking for. “Do you believe in the existence of the Alternate Universe?”

“Alternate…?”

“They’re thousands, even millions, of them out there, a separate reality co-existed with our own. Perhaps there, Captain… Perhaps there,” the god firmly grasped Bucky’s shoulder. “Sleep well, my friend.”

Thor left Bucky alone to work with what he shared. Another Universe… Bucky’s brain was too tired to process the whole thing. He took everything he got, no longer feeling the thirst that rocked him down for a long while, and ride the elevator straight to his room.

The room he occupied was dark but his eyes could still guide him to his bed. He didn’t bother to turn on the light, didn’t even bother to take off his shoes and get a change of clothes. He just wanted to close his eyes and end this painfully real bad dream. Bucky asked JARVIS to play a music, letting the tune drown the silence and lure him to sleep. He didn’t recognize the song but the lyric accompanied him passing through the gate of the living world.

In the hazy moment between consciousness he saw Steve, gripping his cold hands and warmed them up as he guided him into a dream where everything was okay. Because for now, all Bucky knew, this was better than his reality. But perhaps in another world, in another universe, there would be a different story for both of them. The world where Bucky wasn’t being tied by his title as the first Avengers. The world where both of them orphan could become someone else. The world where they could be together, where their ending would be a happy one.

Tonight, the day would end. Tomorrow would be another nightmare. But he would get through it with Steve, with the man that he loved who stood farther than his reach. Steve had endured the torture for as long as he could. This was Bucky’s turn… For Steve.

_‘Will you still love me when I’m no longer young and beautiful?’_

“You know I will…” Bucky mumbled. “You know I will…”

_‘I know that you will.’_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I kept picturing this kind of tragedy and I kinda hated myself for it.


End file.
